A Lord of Steam and Iron
by Tattles
Summary: Mycroft holds a 'minor' position in the British government, he reflects on his role and the similarities he sees in an old song he once heard. Short little one-shot.


**Title:** A Lord of Steam and Iron

**Rating:** PG 13+

**Warning/Spoilers:** Spoilers for everything I guess. There is an OOC Mycroft and then there's my version of the Queen, so be warned. Warnings also for weird and plot-less fic.

**Summary:** Mycroft holds a 'minor' position in the British government, he reflects on his role and the similarities he sees in an old song he once heard.

**A/N:** I'm sorry for any inconsistencies and my inadequate knowledge of Briton and its secret services and processes, I'm not British I'm Australian and we do things differently. Also I am sorry if no one else can see the similarities to Mycroft in the song, it must be my imagination, I thought it fit.

**Disclaimer: **Sherlock Holmes is in the public domain, although the BBC owns this current version and it's Mycroft, I don't own anything. The version of 'A Lord of Steam and Iron' I used is sung by John Kirkpatrick, I don't own it either.

* * *

Mycroft Holmes' office was unlike what many expected, clean and yet cluttered, modern and yet classical, the room was functional and served its purpose. Mycroft's office was a reflection of the man himself, an interesting mix of a modern man and Victorian gentleman, with neutral tones to blend and relax and yet commanding in presence. Of course in Mr Holmes' line of work it was necessary to be able to take on any personality required, to change him manner to fit the situation.

Him brother, Sherlock Holmes, was the worlds only Consulting Detective. And just like his brother Mycroft Holmes could be considered the worlds only Consulting Government, occupying a 'minor' position in the British government was merely Mycroft's front. No one bar those in the top-dog positions knew what Mycroft Holmes really did, not even his secretary, Anthea knows.

But that's the way Mycroft Holmes likes it.

As a boy Mycroft had heard a song, 'A Lord of Steam and Iron' and looking back as a grown man he could admire the similarities between himself and the character of the tune. He was not as aloft as to not feel empathy but Mycroft recognised the sacrifices need to keep the country running smoothly, whether that sacrifice be life, tears or time, Mycroft was prepared and willing to give it.

Smiling Mycroft entered Westminster without really being noticed, after all he had the appearance of any normal politician going about their daily business. Smiling craftily Mycroft made his way to the nondescript room in which the Queen always waited in before entering the Houses herself. Bowing when he entered Mycroft made his way towards the monarch, "Your Majesty" he bowed delicately again.

"Mycroft. How is your brother? Not getting into too much trouble is he?"

Mycroft smiled, "He is fine your Majesty. No more trouble than usual, he seems to have found a friend who keeps in line"

With a laughing smile the Queen waved Mycroft into the seat opposite, "Down to business. How is the government, Mycroft? Sawer's not giving you any trouble, is he?"

"No, ma'am"

"Good. I need you to-"

The meeting progressed well, Mycroft advising on certain moves that would not benefit England and informing the Queen of all relevant developments. The Queen in turn ensured Mycroft was well informed in his duties and restriction, not that there were many restrictions, and that Mycroft would continue to serve and protect England. The meeting finished with Mycroft renewing his vows of loyalty to Queen and country.

On his way back to his office in black Mercedes Mycroft found himself humming that long forgotten tune,

"_A Lord of Steam and Iron am I  
__A monster in the land;  
__While puny men of bone and blood  
__Are slaves at my command._

_The Monster Science is my name  
__And I trample on the free;  
__I laugh at the sight of human tears  
__And Death is my victory!_

_I love the knell of the factory bell  
__On the long dark winter night,  
__With hail and storms and quivering forms  
__Who toil by candlelight._

_Of iron and steam I reign supreme  
__But a partial King am I:  
__The few by stealth I heap with wealth  
__While the masses sicken and die."_


End file.
